


It starts with a nightclub and ends in an exorcism

by PetitLu



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Attempt at Humor, Canon Era, Friendship, Gen, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-19 15:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetitLu/pseuds/PetitLu
Summary: Phichit is an ordinary figure skater. As in, he skates and competes internationally. And when no one is in the locker room, he ties his laces with magic because he's lazy. Also sometimes he fights demons. Not alone though, he has a partner in crime, from Japan! No, not that one.In which Yuri should not be playing around with old spellbooks, Phichit's rest day is rudely interrupted and an exorcism is performed.
Relationships: Katsuki Mari & Phichit Chulanont
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14
Collections: 18OI Bingo-ber 2019





	It starts with a nightclub and ends in an exorcism

**Author's Note:**

> Written like three months ago for the 18Oi Discord Bingo event, for the "magic" square  
> Hope you enjoy!

The floor is vibrating under Phichit’s feet. Bodies press on his back, moving in synch. It has been a while since he has last gone out, and he is enjoying his night off.

Tomorrow is a rest day, and he plans on sleeping, eating and going back to bed.

The music changes to something slow and sensual and Phichit smiles. He turns towards his friends, who had been glad to see him get out of his cave. 

They are all gathered next to the bar, so Phichit shrugs and shoots a dazzling smile at the handsome stranger behind him. 

When he stumbles home at 4am, a smug and satisfied look on his face, he throws his clothes in the general direction of his hamper before faceplanting on his bed.

A lazy handwave towards his window closes the blinds, and the shadows cast by the streetlights disappear, leaving the room in complete darkness.

He lets out a soft groan and falls asleep, dead to the world.

His shrill emergency ringtone wakes him up what feels like ten minutes later.

“What,” he croaks into the phone floating next to his head.

“You need to get to Japan. Yurio accidentally summoned a demon. And use your hands when you’re on the phone, you’re making it glitch.” With that, the line goes dead and Phichit muffles a groan in his pillow.

Yurio. The Katsukis' name for Yuri Plisetsky. Phichit is vaguely aware of who that was.

No that’s a lie. Phichit has stalked the brat’s SNS the moment Yuuri opened up about what had transpired in Sochi. 

For all Phichit cared, he could get eaten by the demon, but as his teachers had repeated throughout his teenage years, it was his “sacred mission” to ensure idiotic teenagers playing around with Ouija boards were not doomed to eternal torment.

He drags himself out of bed and picks his phone off the ground. The screen reads 5.32 am, and what was that moron doing summoning demons before 8 in the morning.

He throws a longing look at his warm, comfy bed.

As if summoned, a text appears on the screen

\- _Get yourself out of bed. I’ll be waiting by the nexus in ten minutes._

One nauseating trip through the nearest portal later, Phichit finds himself almost slamming into the statue that guards the town.

An arm stops his stumbling and spares his nose a painful encounter and he is met by Mari Katsuki’s bored face.

“Finally,” she grunts, looking about as happy to see him as he is to be here at such an early hour, before dragging him by the wrist towards the onsen.

Once he arrives, Mari sits him down at the table and Hiroko Katsuki drops a bowl in front of him.

If she is surprised to see her son’s former rinkmate showing up unannounced at 7.45am on a Saturday, she does not show it.

Phichit thanks her and smiles before attacking his breakfast with prejudice.Yuuri had not exaggerated, his parents’ cooking is amazing.

Mari lets him eat for all of two seconds before she starts explaining the situation in that offhand tone of hers.

“Yurio found a spell book in the attic,” she states. “He must have traced off the characters or something.”

Phichit refrains from commenting on the carelessness involved in leaving spell books in an _attic_ , of all places.

“We all went to bed last night and he was fine, but when he got up and went down for breakfast, he tried to strangle Yuuri with his own sweater.

At that, Phichit chokes and earns a glare from Mari.

“My brother is okay,” she continues, “and the demon is contained. But I haven’t managed to get rid of him. Hence your presence.”

“But how did no one notice that he was possessed before he got close to anyone?”

Mari looks embarrassed by the question. Phichit raises an eyebrow.

“He was angry, aggressive and asking for food. We only realised something wasn’t right when he tried to eat Yuuri."

The mental image almost pushes Phichit to ask if someone filmed the whole thing, but his few shreds of professionalism keep his curiosity in check. Instead, he nods and, his bowl finished, he looks up at Mari who holds out her hand.

They arrive in front of her bedroom, and though it looks inconspicuous, it is buzzing with energy that sends shivers down Phichit’s spine.

"Where are Yuuri and Victor?” Phichit asks before they enter. “In Victor’s room. He sort of… collapsed after I hit Yurio with a broom.”

She sounds almost apologetic and Phichit giggles. At the look she shoots him, he squares his shoulders and his smile slides of his face.

“Ready?” she asks as she pushes the door open. Immediately, what must have been a silencing spell breaks and they are assaulted with hisses and strangled screaming, interrupted by the occasional insult in Russian.

Phichit takes a moment to admire the demon’s lung capacity and, confronted with Plisetsky’s breaking teenage voice, another to appreciate the fact that his own puberty is over and done with.

Ever the efficient one, Mari is already in the room, renewing the spells that keep the demon bound while Phichit still stands at the door.

He walks in and projects careful tendrils of magic towards Plisetsky’s body. The resulting shock as they brush his back sends a hundred bursts of static through Phichit’s brain.

Mari snaps her head towards him. “I’ve tried that. I need you to hold him down so I can figure out how it got in.” By looking into its mind is what she does not say, and Phichit shudders. That job he will gladly leave to her.

They trade places like they’ve done dozens of time, the soft threads of Mari’s spells entangling themselves with his fingers. 

As the demon catches sight of Phichit, the insults double in volume and intensity, and Phichit has played enough video games with Yuuri to understand that his mother’s virtue is being dragged through the mud.

Plisetsky’s face, now that he can look at it, is twisted in a snarl and his green eyes are bloodshot.

Mari’s spell, effective and powerful, holds strong and keeps him from thrashing too much, but the sight is still impressive.

“Getting anywhere?” he asks over the screaming.

“I think. Ask me again in five minutes. And shut the door will you, I don’t want my brother to come running because of the noise in case Victor wakes up.”

The door shuts with a soft click, and the room feels small and cramped. Phichit renews his hold on the spells and ignore the demon, who has now switched to English.

Seconds tick past. A drop of sweat drips down Phichit’s forehead from holding down the demon. He ignores it.

Nothing much registers beyond the energy emanating from the creature and the buzzing of Phichit and Mari’s magic.

A triumphant yell breaks his focus. He reflexively tightens his hands to keep the spells going.

“I know how we’re getting it out. It is going to suck though.”

“Not like I was expecting any better,” he sighs.

He holds out his hand and Mari grabs it, already letting their magic combine and flow together.

The good thing about doing this together every time as opposed to changing partners regularly like most of their older colleagues, Phichit muses, is that they barely need words anymore.

He just lets her take hold of his power and shape it as she likes, using him as a glorified power bank.

They fall together seamlessly now, a far cry from their disastrous debuts as teenagers when Phichit had no idea who Yuuri Katsuki was and barely understood what his powers entailed.

Mari weaves spells too quick for Phichit to keep up, so he lets his power flow through their joined hands and focuses on maintaining the bonds on the demon.

Time passes and Phichit loses track. Only when Mari’s power stops sizzling in the air between them and the demon does he raise his head.

She is staring at it, her eyes boring holes in his face. She gives a brutal tug on Phichit’s magic and the demon starts writhing in pain.

Phichit lets go of the binding spells, useless now, and feeds more power into the bond.

The room is drowned in light and suddenly the noise stops, leaving only a buzzing in their ears.

Plisetky’s chin hits his sternum, and Phichit and Mari collapse together.

They look at each other, splayed on the ground like starfish, and start to giggle.

“It’s been a while huh?”

“I guess teenagers are getting more careful with Ouija boards. But really Mari, spell books in the attic?”

“Oh shut up, between Yuuri, Yurio and Victor showing up it’s been hectic.”

Phichit laughs, though with how drained he is it comes out as more of a wheeze.

“We should do this more often,” he declares.

“What, exorcising angry Russian teenagers?”

“Sure, why not?”

That sends both of them into a fit of laughter. They struggle to catch their breath.

“Mari-neechan? Phichit-kun? What’s happening?”

Phichit freezes, his laughter extinguished, as Yuuri, sweet, oblivious, in-the-dark Yuuri walks in. 

FIN 


End file.
